. Whims and oddities : in prose and verse. pumps getting choked,— a suggestion that mademe feel rather qualmish, and for relief 1 made a call on Mrs. W . The visit was ill-chosen and mistimed, for the lady in question, by dint of good-nature, anda romantic turn—principally estimated by her young andfemale acquaintance — had acquired the reputation ofbeing all heart. The phrase had often provoked mymirth, — but, alas! the description was now over nature had formed her in that mould, or my owndistempered fancy, I know not—but there she sate, andlooked the Professors lecture over aga
. Whims and oddities : in prose and verse. pumps getting choked,— a suggestion that mademe feel rather qualmish, and for relief 1 made a call on Mrs. W . The visit was ill-chosen and mistimed, for the lady in question, by dint of good-nature, anda romantic turn—principally estimated by her young andfemale acquaintance — had acquired the reputation ofbeing all heart. The phrase had often provoked mymirth, — but, alas! the description was now over nature had formed her in that mould, or my owndistempered fancy, I know not—but there she sate, andlooked the Professors lecture over again. She was likeone of those games alluded to in my beginning •— No-thing but Hearts! Her nose turned up. It was aheart — and her mouth led a trump. Her face gave a NOTHING BUT HEARTS ! 335 heart—and her cap followed suit. Her sleeves puckeredand plumped themselves into a heart-shape—and so didher body. Her pincushion was a heart—the very back ofher chair was a heart—her bosom was a heart. She was all heart indeed!. SHE IS ALL HEART. 336 JACK HALL. Tis very hard when men forsakeThis melancholy world, and makeA bed of turf, they cannot take A quiet doze,But certain rogues will come and break Their bone repose. Tis hard we cant give up our breath,And to the earth our earth bequeath,Without Death Fetches after death, Who thus exhume us;And snatch us from our homes beneath, And hearths posthumous. JACK HALL- 337 III. The tender lover comes to rear The mournful urn, and shed his tear— Her glorious dust, he cries, is here ! Alack! alack!The while his Sacharissa dear Is in a sack! IV. Tis hard one cannot lie amidThe mould beneath a coffin-lid,But thus the Faculty will bid Their rogues break thro it!If they dont want us there, why did They send us to it ? One of these sacrilegious knaves,Who crave as hungry vulture craves,Behaving as the goul behaves, Neath church-yard wall—Mayhap because he fed on graves, Was namd Jack Hall. 338 JACK HALL. By day it was his
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